The Colour Suits You
by Val-Creative
Summary: Merlin doesn't think he's been so nervous before. Clients are one thing. Clients are easy and impersonal. But, hell, this is -Arthur-. /Modern AU. Genderqueer!Arthur. Oneshot.


**.**

 **.**

Merlin doesn't think he's been so nervous before.

Clients are one thing. Clients are easy and impersonal.

But, hell, this is _Arthur_.

He can only imagine how Arthur feels about this… with this being their _first time_ , and all. Their— _yes_ , Arthur's gender pronouns—their first public outing in the clothes Arthur deems most comfortable. Mean beams over Arthur's shoulders in the vanity, going on automatic, keeping himself from fluffing the tailored ruffle to narrow hips.

"The colour suits you, it does, it really does," Merlin says. He edges on babbling as his fingers tremble, helping the dress's zipper close.

It's a peplum-style cut; it's made to flatter Arthur's muscular body. The hot-red of the material looks good against sun-browned skin. Their arse looks _really_ good, firm and curving out.

It's the kind of size that fills Merlin's hands nicely—Arthur's skin pliant and warm, stinging a hot-red too when Merlin's palm cracks against their buttocks. When alone, when Arthur's naked knees rock against the coverlet.

"Oi, watch it, you buffoon!" Arthur snaps, jolting slightly when the zipper's teeth pinch.

Turning their head makes the chandelier earrings—great and _golden_ , just like the rest of Arthur—reflect off the room's lighting.

"Maybe if you'd _hold still_ for once in your life," Merlin retorts. He steadies both of his hands, taking a deep breath (or several), finally clinching the dress. The low scoop-back is _delicious_ , revealing Arthur's shoulder-blades and the powerful build of tendons. "I've seen children in primary with less impatience."

He misses Arthur giving an over-dramatic eyeroll, but Merlin steps around him, eyeing his work so far.

It wouldn't kill Arthur to use the foundation, with a patch of acne on their right cheek. But, he supposes it's fine since Arthur's facial skin is already evenly-toned. Merlin has already applied the blush and a hint of mascara, not too much, but what remains is Arthur's infuriating and ever-chapped, bare lips.

The lipstick Merlin picks out is moisturizing, and long-lasting, and should be the ticket…

Reminding himself to not cup Arthur's face, or be so keen, Merlin softly places his lips against Arthur's. Holding it there, drawing in air through his nose—waiting, until Arthur's own mouth responses, opening for him.

They suck Merlin's bottom lip gently, until it's lodged firmly between Arthur's, teeth scraping down on wet flesh. Merlin breathes out a groaning noise, sweeping his tongue across the rim of Arthur's mouth, before pulling away.

Arthur's _smiling_ , and it's heartfelt and beautiful.

"What was that for?" they ask.

Merlin finds himself smiling big, too. He pops off the top of the lipstick tube with a flourish, twirling it up.

"Needed to get it out of my system," is the cheerful reply. "Now _hold still._ "

 **.**

 **.**

It's a lounge full of old uni-mates, but Merlin keeps a vigilant eye out.

Percival and Elyan are the first to greet he and Arthur, clapping Merlin on a shoulder, offering a drink. Both men say nothing about the red, stylish pumps on Arthur's feet, or blink an eyelash, only recounting the story of Mordred's operation.

Mithian appears from the foyer, wrapped snugly in a black, woven shawl, and compliments Arthur's outfit. She hooks an arm through theirs, rubbing her and Arthur's hands together and shivering from the room's temperature.

He spots Browen joining them quickly, flitting about, along with one of Arthur's footie mates.

So far, it's only friendly grins from the party and engaging, loud laughter from all occupants of the flat, and accepting more drinks.

Merlin's been asked before… what was it like to have a partner _unsure of who they were_?

It's a load of rubbish.

Arthur _knows_ who they are. Arthur never needed to change for anyone, or to fit a certain standard. Being trapped in the role of "cisgendered male" for twenty-seven years, questioning and suffering alone, made them plenty miserable. Merlin wants them happy. _Arthur_ to be happy with themself, and of course—with Merlin.

Enough admiring from afar.

He tugs Arthur by their wrist, not letting go until Merlin shuts the foyer-closet door. He needs it—he _has to_ have Arthur's hands on him, his body pressing and rutting to Arthur's front. Merlin loves it—when Arthur can _effortlessly_ pick him off his feet, pinning Merlin harshly to the wall, letting his legs circle their waist.

Merlin braces his fingers into Arthur's hair, clutching on. They're sheltered by the jackets and overcoats, flinging several out of the way, noisily clanging metal hangers.

He plunges through Arthur's lips, tongue wiping the layer of meticulously-done, red lipstick. It tastes _expensive_ and slick, collecting inside Merlin's mouth. He and Arthur are pressing too hard on each other for him to grind, to get the raw friction he _wants_.

"Fuck, this is a bad idea," Merlin says, his chin smeared, voice deep and amused.

Arthur gives a jerk of their head, which he assumes is a nod of agreement, before reaching and unclasping Merlin's belt. The rough gesture is enough to fully harden Merlin's cock in his trousers. "Just stay quiet, Merlin."

" _Definitely_ not happening." he says, grinning devilishly.

Merlin presses his entire palm to the outside of Arthur's prick, feeling a noticeable twitch beneath the dress, rubbing down frantically and hearing Arthur pant. Somehow, he gets the hot-red dress up Arthur's thighs, and cramps himself down on his knees.

It's too small of a closet to be doing this, but Merlin feels _wound-up_ and flushed, and Arthur's too gorgeous to pass up sucking off right now.

Merlin's tongue slides along the under-vein, his mouth licking and engulfing Arthur's cock. His faintly red-stained lips widening.

They both are going to reek like sex, and more sex—and Merlin's perfectly alright with the sly, accusing looks to come.

His cheek dribbles with Arthur's warm semen. Merlin wipes it off quickly, wordlessly, sucking his fingers clean.

" _This was a really good idea_ ," he mumbles, leaning against Arthur's head, the golden chandelier earring brushing his lips.

.

.

* * *

 _-throws up hands- Woooo! Okay, this was my first attempt at a genderqueer character (my own gender identity/pronouns btw) and this was a birthday request from BeneaththeHalo on AO3 who asked for "Arthur in feminine clothing where Merlin is the one dressing [them]". LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS, DEFINITELY. This was a new experience for me too - trying to portray a gender identity that's actually so personal to me. :)_


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